


Today Is A Gift

by Meg13



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, Happy?, ok fine... i used christmas as an excuse to write porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg13/pseuds/Meg13
Summary: Walter gives Barbara a Christmas gift...
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Today Is A Gift

Christmas Day in the Lake household is, traditionally, a casual affair.

This year is no different.

Both roll out of bed much later in the morning than intended, though Jim _does_ manage to stumble into the kitchen early enough to whip up a batch of his famous peppermint pancakes before his mother has even cracked an eyelid. A half-hour later, when Barbara is finally coherent enough to accept a mug of steaming hot coffee, they kick-off an afternoon of scrumptious snacks, holiday classics, and gift giving. The quality time together is… nice _._

A whole day without lies, without arguments or accusations – _perfect_. Which is why Barbara is bit relieved when Jim bounds across the street sometime around dusk.

With a content sigh and a full glass of merlot, she settles onto the couch for a Hallmark movie marathon… And is almost immediately interrupted by a soft knock on the front door.

 _Now who could that be?_ Barbara wonders as she heads into the foyer. Going onto her tiptoes, she peeks through the row of windows along the top of the door to find a pair of familiar emerald eyes staring back at her. “Walter?”

“Hello, Barbara,” he says, smiling, as she pulls open the door.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were flying to Brazil tonight.”

“Pushed my flight to tomorrow.” Walter shrugs, then asks hesitantly, “Is, uh… Is Jim home?”

Barbara quirks an amused brow. “You came all the way over here to see Jim?”

“What?” Walter blinks, momentarily taken aback by the question. “Ah, no. No, I…” He shakes his head and gives a nervous little chuckle as he holds up a small package wrapped in red. “I should have called first. Uh. But, I want you to have this before I leave.”

“Oh.” They never discussed exchanging gifts and Barbara’s lips briefly retain a surprised ‘o’ shape as she eyes the one tucked securely in his large palm. “I didn’t… You know what? Jim is actually across the street playing some of the video games Toby got for Hanukkah and I’m in the middle of a very important holiday romcom, so…”

“I should,” Walter frowns doubtfully, “leave?”

“You could.” Oh, wow, uncertainty looks positively _endearing_ on him. “Or, you can come in and help me polish off that bottle of wine we opened last weekend.”

The corners of Walter’s lips slowly tic upward, his disappointment giving way to fond warmth. “Only if we can watch ‘A Purr-fect Christmas’ again.”

“Hmm.” Barbara purses her lips and steps away from the door. “I think ‘Ho-Ho-Home For The Holidays’ is up next, but we can always check the DVR.”

“Oooh, that’s a good one.” Walter smirks as he passes into the house, pausing just inside the doorway to give the doctor a long, languid kiss hello. “Almost better than ‘Meet Me Under The Mistletoe’.”

His hand is warm against her cheek. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

“It’s about a big city lawyer that spends Christmas in a small town called – wait for it…” He pecks the tip of her nose and, in unison, they laugh, “Mistletoe.”

“What will they think of next?”

“A question, my dear, that plagues me all year round.”

She snorts and shuts the door. “Wine first? Or the present you really shouldn’t have got me?”

“It’s not…” Walter licks his lips as she steers him into the living room. “It’s nothing expensive, or… Honestly, it’s terribly silly and I’m starting to rethink the whole blasted–“

“Hand it over,” Barbara prompts, holding out her hand – and, ugh, maybe _adorable_ is a more apt description of how he looks when nervous.

He drops the gift in her outstretched hand, watching with a degree of trepidation as she carefully removes the wrapping paper and tosses it onto the coffee table. She opens the box and he visibly cringes. “Really, Barbara. It’s so stupid. I just thought it was–“

Her bark of laughter cuts him off. “Oh, god. You were right. This is… really terrible.”

“Do you love it though?”

“Very much,” she says, grinning down at the crisp white mug with the words ‘STAY CALM AND… WAIT, NOT THAT CALM!’ etched into the side. “The, uh, coding EKG is a nice touch.”

“I told you it was silly.”

“It’s perfect.” Barbara leans into him to kiss his rosy cheek. “Thank you, Walt.”

“You’re very welcome, Barbara.”

“And look!” She pulls away to grab the bottle of merlot off the coffee table. “We don’t even need another wineglass now.”

Walter arches an impressed eyebrow. “Very resourceful, Dr. Lake. I like your style.”

She winks, and they collapse onto the couch for a solid hour of _not_ paying attention to ‘Ho-Ho-Home For The Holidays’. But then the wine is gone and the movie is over and they could both _really_ use a stretch, so Walter attempts to touch his toes while Barbara heads into the kitchen for a bottle of cab.

Only, she has a slight problem popping the cork.

“Hey, Walt? Can you come here? This bottle is being stubborn.”

He appears within seconds, gently pulling the bottle from her frustrated grasp and holding it up in front of him. “Giving the lady a hard time?” He gives the wine a terse glare and, with a twist of his wrist, has it uncorked. “You’re lucky I didn’t use the thumbkins on you.”

Barbara tilts her head at the unfamiliar verbiage, but waggles a brow anyway as she saddles up next to him to confiscate the now open bottle. “See? You really _are_ a good screw.”

Walter smirks and stretches past her to set the corkscrew down on the counter, scoffing huskily against the shell of her ear, “If you think that was impressive, you should see the way I drill.”

It might be the confidence in his tone, or the way his breath tickles her sensitive skin. Or it could even be the unexpected words themselves – but there’s definitely _something_ about his declaration that sends a shiver of anticipation straight down Barbara’s spine. “Yeah? Well, maybe…” Her breath hitches when his teeth graze her earlobe. “Maybe a demonstration is in order?”

“I can do that,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to trail a line down the column of her throat to her partially exposed collarbone. Her head tilts back, prompting Walter to trace hot kisses along the loose V-shaped neckline of her sweater – pausing briefly at her hint of cleavage before nipping up to her parted lips.

Barbara’s right hand rises to the changeling’s jawline, her fingertips gentle but insistent as his hands slip under her shirt. They’re cold, as usual, but grow warm as they travel up her ribcage. And by the time his thumbs edge under her bra to tease at her soft, flushed flesh - they’re scorching.

“Lace?” Walter hmmm’s against the corner of her mouth, eyes flashing at the discovery.

“Skipped laundry day.” _Thank, god._ “Can’t promise the same for the undies.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t fret about that.” He swipes his thumb _just_ _right_ and smirks wickedly when Barbara arcs into the touch, muscles straining and slacking simultaneously. “You won’t be wearing them much longer anyway.”

Now _that_ causes her tummy to clench most pleasantly.

What does _not_ , however, is Walter pulling his hands out from under her sweater a few moments later, and she groans in protest until he quiets her pout with a finger to her lips. “The wine, dear. We don’t want to waste _all_ of it.”

It takes a moment for his comment to register – after all, he _is_ kissing her again and his right hand has managed to wander all the way to her hip – though, it doesn’t particularly matter as he takes the dribbling bottle from her and sets it on the counter without a single pause in his administrations.

Which are becoming increasingly arousing as he teases a pale strip of skin just above the waistband of her jeans.

“Walt…”

He pops open the button and tugs the zipper, and slides his fingertips into Barbara’s cotton panties.

The doctor sighs and leans against the counter, her eyelashes fluttering as Walter’s fingers begin to glide back and forth along her seam – slow and gentle, at first, but growing more insistent the slicker she becomes. _Fuck, it feels good._

His middle two fingers suddenly dip inside her.

Barbara’s hips jerk forward as she cries out, surprised and relieved by the very welcome intrusion.

“Alright?” Walter asks, easing his fingers out and then back into her.

“God, yes,” Barbara whimpers. She catches his emerald gaze – so intense, so focused on bringing her pleasure – and wonders how the hell she’s supposed to go without this while he’s away on vacation. “How long… will you be gone?”

He groans. “Too long.”

“Yeah, but…” She trails off, gasping, when he adjusts the angle of his wrist to press his palm firmly against her clit. “ _Shit_.”

A low, rasping purr rumbles up from the changeling’s chest at her enthusiastic response and he buries his face in her neck, intent on licking and nipping and nibbling every bit of creamy skin he can reach with his tongue and teeth as Barbara writhes against his knuckles.

And - _oh, goddamnit_ – if only her jeans and underwear weren’t making it so difficult for Walter to really drive into her… But the friction from his palm is more than enough, and the heat building in her belly leaves no doubt in Barbara’s mind that a few more minutes of grinding down will lead to a sweet, satisfying release.

Only, she wants _more_.

“Wait, wait. Walt, I want…” She swallows back another moan. “I want you inside me when… I cum.”

“ _Fuck_ , Barbara.”

He twists his wrist one last time before withdrawing his fingers, deliberately dragging the wet digits over her center in a way that _almost_ makes her regret asking him to stop. But then his mouth is on hers again – hot and urgent – and she can feel his excitement when he presses against her thigh.

“Upstairs?”

“No,” Barbara manages between kisses, a mischievous lilt to her tone. She slaps the laminate behind her. “Right here.”

Walter leans back, brow quirked. “I don’t think the FDA would approve of us shagging on the kitchen counter.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing neither of us is a certified health inspector,” she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and rocks into his erection, “ _huh_?”

A groan escapes the changeling.

“Now, maybe…” Barbara suggests, taking one hand off the edge of the counter to point at her pants. “You can help me get these off?”

Oh, he’ll be getting more off than just her jeans.

Not that it’s a bad place to start, and Walter pointedly holds the doctor’s gaze as he kneels in front of her – hands eagerly roaming up her backside before circling around her waist – to yank the dark denim down to her ankles. Her panties immediately follow and once both garments are tossed aside, Barbara heaves a relieved sigh… that ends in a squeak when Walter takes a _slight_ detour on his way back up.

“Babe, I – _Fuck_ …”

Her eyes squeeze shut, hips jerking forward as he sucks her into his mouth; that silver tongue of his appealing to more than intellect or vanity for once. Okay, more than just _appealing_ – sweet, Jesus, she’s practically _aching_ now as the same hot pressure from before begins to coil in her abdomen again.

“Up.” While they’ve only been intimate a handful (or two, maybe three) of times, Barbara has already discovered Walter is _not at all_ opposed to a little rough handling and he hisses hungrily when she reaches out to tug on his thick hair. The changeling’s groan of pleasure vibrates through her core, and what is supposed to be a breathy command comes out as more of a pleading whimper. “Walt, up… here.”

He doesn’t deviate from the route this time – just slips an arm around Barbara’s backside and effortlessly hoists her onto the counter. The unexpected display of strength earns him an impressed gasp.

“Are you…” Walter’s head tilts forward as the doctor’s eager fingers go to work on his belt. “Okay?”

Barbara arches an eyebrow and pointedly snaps open his straining trousers. “ _Very_.”

And then it’s the changeling’s turn to gasp as she wedges her thumbs between his skin and the elastic waistband of his briefs, and shoves them over his hips. He’s still impossibly hard and Barbara wastes no time taking him into her hands, a trill of excitement pulsing through her when she smooths her palms along his shaft.

“Walt.” Barbara swallows as she scoots to the very edge of the counter and guides him to her wet center before shifting her hips upward to hook her legs around his waist. She nudges him forward with her heels and smiles when the tip of his cock disappears inside her entrance. “Can you… _Shit_. Hard, please?”

It’s a request he’s more than happy to oblige, and Walter sinks into her without further ado.

Barbara hums and licks her lips, thoroughly satisfied with the way he fills her in all the right places. He’s not exactly gentle, nor is he too rough as he finds a steady rhythm - and, once again, the doctor wonders how she’s going to live without his touch or his voice or his _puns_ while he’s out of the country.

Which is a level of emotion she is absolutely _not_ willing to explore right now.

But she _does_ want to get closer – to feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and the flush of his skin under her fingertips – so, she surges upward to press her lips against Walter’s throat, her fingers curling around the back of his neck before twisting sharply at the salt-and-pepper scruff found there. “Harder.”

He _growls_ and drives into her.

“Fu-ck,” Barbara whimpers, insides clenching as the speed and intensity of his drive threaten to overwhelm her in the best way possible. “Oh… _fuck_ , Walt.”

The changeling tips his chin down, mouth seeking to pull her into a bruising kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. “You…” He moans when she nips at his jaw and continues to tighten around him. “Are you close?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you want me to…“

“ _Yes._ ”

Walter shifts his weight to his left side and reaches into Barbara’s lap, the fingers of his right hand splaying over her tensing tummy as the pad of his thumb begins feverishly stroking her swollen clit. She bucks at the added stimulation, the sensation carrying her forward to bury her face in the crook of his neck.

“Love, I can’t –“

“No, no, no,” she whines, eyes screwing shut. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I’m… almost there.”

Barbara’s senses are on fire now – the coil in her belly so taut it’s almost painful – and she rocks into Walter, meeting each jerking thrust with one of her own until the coil suddenly springs loose and she climaxes with a euphoric, keening cry. The sound itself is enough to send Walter over the edge, and he heaves a deep, guttural groan as they ride out the pulsing waves of their simultaneous release.

When they finally catch their breath and recover the ability to form coherent thoughts, Barbara pulls away from Walter’s collar to flash him a lazy, satisfied smile. “I think,” she says softly, “I should go… Uh, clean up a bit? Could you maybe – “

“Sanitize the countertops?” Walter asks with a wink.

“Bleach wipes are under the sink,” she laughs, content to hold his gaze as her fingers play idly with his thoroughly mussed hair. “Thank you for the gift.”

“Thank _you_ ,” he whispers back and drops his forehead to hers. “Merry Christmas, Barbara.”

“Merry Christmas, Walt.”


End file.
